


Heart of Stone

by cosetteeverdeen



Category: Hunger Games (2012), Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Male-Female Friendship, Pregnancy, Romance, Romantic Friendship, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Sister-Sister Relationship, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-10
Updated: 2014-08-31
Packaged: 2018-01-04 05:54:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1077337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosetteeverdeen/pseuds/cosetteeverdeen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Picks up sometime between the Victory Tour and the Quarter Quell. Katniss and Gale remain secretly involved despite Snow's threats. However, when Katniss discovers she is pregnant, the stakes grow even higher. Follows the basic storyline of the novels, but obviously with some major differences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Dreams

            I’ve been having strange dreams lately. They involve me running through the woods, chasing a little girl. Is it Prim? Is it me? Is it someone who doesn’t really exist? All I know is that she’s small, she’s fast, and I need to catch her. My heart pumps hard and I’m panting. The sky around us is bright pink like a sunset and the trees groan as they break in half. She giggles in a high-pitched voice. I need to take her somewhere safe. I need to find her.

            I don’t. I fall into a pit that I couldn’t see and everything is black. I fall for hours and I’m soaking wet, plummeting through cold water. I can’t find her. She needs me. Or do I need her more?

* * *

            When I wake, the sun is already up. It has to be at least ten. I sit up in bed, confused, alarmed, and look around the room. Gale is noticeably absent, and so are his clothes. No one else is with me, and I hear nothing. I don’t sleep in often. I’m utterly confused.

            My feet quietly shuffle against the floor as I go downstairs. My mother is in the kitchen with Prim and I have to clear my throat so that they know I have arrived.

            “Oh, good morning,” my mother says with a smile. She is stirring something in a bowl and I realize she is making medicine. My eyes move to my sister, who smiles as well.

            “Did you sleep well?” Prim asks. She’s gotten so much taller that I feel she’ll catch up to me any day now. I must have blinked and missed the part where she grew up.

            I nod and poke around the pantry, my stomach uttering a deep grumble. “I think my stomach woke me up. What time is it?”

            “Ten-thirty.” My mother comes over to kiss my cheek. “Are you feeling okay?”

            I furrow my brow. “Yeah. I mean, I know I hardly ever sleep in, but...” I lose my train of thought as I find something for breakfast. By this time on most days I’m usually up and out, but this late start is throwing me off. I make myself a large bowl of oatmeal and pour plenty of brown sugar on top. My sister and mother exchange a look but I’m too occupied with food to care.

            “Have you seen Gale today?” I ask after wolfing down half the bowl. “He and I were supposed to go out.”

            They mention nothing about him spending the previous night with me, or the one before that, or the several nights before those. Sometimes he comes straight from the mines, sometimes in the middle of the night after being with his family, and other times he comes just before dawn to kiss me good morning. He never fails me.

            “He said not to worry. He’s in the usual spot,” Prim smiles at me. Her cheeks are pink and I can’t help but blush in return. “Are you gonna go find him?”

            She knows the answer. I finish my breakfast and kiss the top of her head before going upstairs. I pull off my pajamas and change into some clothes more appropriate for hunting. Spring has arrived but it’s still chilly enough to warrant my old jacket. I keep my hair down, too eager to get out of the house to bother with braiding it. I kiss Prim’s forehead on the way out and smile at my mother, and with that I am on a half-jog to the district fence.

            It’s Sunday, after all. It’s our day.

            When I make it to the woods, to the spot where I always meet Gale, I hear him muttering. He’s most likely ranting about the Capitol again, and why shouldn’t he? Now that I’m a Capitol darling, he’s even angrier.

            “You wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?” I tease. He turns at my voice and I frown at the disgruntled look on his face. “What’s the matter?”

            “It’s my day off, Catnip, I shouldn’t be bringing this kind of stuff up—“

            “Tell me,” I say in a firm voice. I move closer to him. I don’t want to have our one day of relative freedom overshadowed by whatever is bothering him.

            He sighs and looks at his feet before his eyes meet mine again. Gray-blue eyes, just like mine. He makes for a pretty convincing cousin, but anyone living in District Twelve knows that’s far from the truth.

            “People in the mines, they’re getting hurt. They’re breaking their arms and legs, getting sick, almost getting killed down there, and no one is getting the help they need. There’s only so much that people like your mom can do,” he says, his voice a low murmur. “And with the way things are going, I don’t think they’re gonna be building hospitals left and right.”

            The Hob was burned down and replaced with a whipping post. Now the ground is stained with the blood of so-called lawbreakers and traitors. Once, it was spattered with _his_ blood. The memory makes me clench my fists.

            “So what are you going to do? Walk out of the mines? They wouldn’t wait to shoot you,” I mutter. “They don’t exactly see people as valuable.”

            Gale chews on the inside of his cheek and I see his jaw clench. “It’s either that, or we all die in the mines. They could plan an accident.” The final word is said in an especially bitter tone. We both tense at the idea of another mining accident, this time claiming him instead of our fathers. My stomach turns at the idea.

             “We can’t live like this,” I finally say after a moment of silence. “Nobody can. Nobody _should_.” I have all the money, food and shelter I could ever need, but if everyone else is suffering, it doesn’t make me feel any better. Or safer.

            He steps closer to me and I can feel his warm breath on my skin. I always feel so small around him, like he could envelop me in his arms and keep me there. Sometimes he does, when it’s the middle of the night and I wake up crying. I don’t even have time to scream before he pulls me close, kisses my forehead, and pets my hair. It’s the times when I’m alone that hurt the most. The times when I don’t have him to comfort me and convince me the monsters aren’t there, the mutts with the tributes’ eyes that reek of roses and blood. If he were to come as close to death as he was after his flogging, or if he actually died…I don’t think I could hold on anymore.

            There’s always Peeta, but he doesn’t know me like Gale does. Before the Games, he only knew a pigtailed little girl who could sing the meadow song. He knew an echo of my mother, as did his father. He knew nothing of the fatherless hunter who grew up too fast, or of the wide-eyed girl who made the woods her safe haven. He knows me now as a fraud and a terrible actress with an equally bad temper. As much as I care for him – really I do, I do care for him – he knows nothing about me.

            “Well, we have to do something soon,” Gale says with a sigh. He tucks a loose lock of hair behind my ear and kisses my forehead, his lips lingering for a moment. “Or else we _are_ going to be living like that. If we live at all.”

* * *

 

            Tonight I dream of Gale. He has invited me into the mines and for some reason we are smiling. I hold his hand and we run to the elevator, the very last place our fathers ever drew a breath. He pulls me close, hands on my cheeks, and kisses me. The kiss is deep and warm, as his kisses always are. There is cheering from outside the elevator and we look up to wave to our families. Prim, my mother, Hazelle, Vick, Rory, Posy, and even Buttercup and Lady are waving back, cheering and whistling and clapping. Wildflowers fall from the ceiling and the elevator descends. The cheers fade as we go deeper into the mine. Deeper, darker… I’m drowning in flowers. The flowers fade, their petals turn hard, and they die all around me. It smells like ashes. I’m gasping, crying out for Gale as we plummet faster and faster to the bottom of the mines. The roar of a fire sounds from behind me and I think it’s all over until I hear a little girl screaming. She’s too young to be Prim. Is it Posy? I don’t see her flash of soft red hair. It has to be her.

            _“Posy!”_

“Whoa, hey there.” Gale’s voice is concerned and I feel his hands touch my shoulders. I sit up and sniffle, feeling hot tears on my cheeks and my heart beating so hard that I think my sternum could shatter. “What’s happening with Posy?”

            My mention of his sister’s name has made him even more on edge. The world comes back to me, free of flowers and ashes and screaming. I am in my bed, in my room, in my house. Gale sits beside me, his black shirt wrinkled from sleeping in strange positions. We have that trait in common as well.

            “I…I don’t know. I thought I heard her,” I whisper. Once I have convinced him that his baby sister is indeed safe, he relaxes and rubs my tears away with his thumbs. “I keep having dreams about her. I think it’s her.”

            Gale swallows. Posy holds a special place in his heart, much like Prim does in mine, and I understand his concern. If he were to tell me that he had recurring nightmares about Prim, I would refuse to leave her alone.

            “I don’t know for sure, though,” I add quickly. “I can’t see her. But I don’t think it’s Prim or…Rue,” I murmur. He pulls me closer and I close my eyes, soothed by the feeling of his hands on my back. How is he always so warm? “Maybe it’s just someone that exists in my dreams. Some of that weird psychology crap,” I say with a tired smile. I could afford a psychologist if I wanted one, but there is no need to draw even more attention to myself. Snow would hate the idea of me spilling all my secrets to another human being. The doctor would end up dead and I don’t want any more blood on my hands. I dismiss the idea and decide to just endure the dreams. The nightmares.

            Gale utters a quiet grunt in reply and lies back down, and I rest on his outstretched arm. I curl up against him, cheek to his chest, and close my eyes. His heartbeat very faintly echoes against my ear and it is this lullaby that soon draws me back into sleep.

* * *

 

            I am alone again when I wake up, this time with a sharp pain in my back. I groan and throw the covers aside, forcing myself to leave the comfort of my bed and go to the bathroom. I crack my back as I go along but it does little to ease the pain. My feet shuffle against the floor and I close the bathroom door. After cracking my neck I lean on the vanity, seeing my puffy-eyed reflection. There’s a dull ache in my right temple and all I want to do is crawl back in bed for the rest of the day. For the rest of the week, even. I barely get up from using the toilet when there’s a knock at my door.

            “Katniss?” Prim’s voice registers and I finish washing my hands. When I open the door Haymitch is standing there. “Sorry, he insisted—“

            “Morning, sweetheart,” Haymitch smirks. “Sorry, did I come at a bad time? It happens.” He’s still bitter about the time I doused him with alcohol to wake him up. Now he’s taking his revenge on me.

            “I’m not in the mood, Haymitch. I just want to go back to bed,” I mutter. I’m still in my satin nightgown and, feeling immodest, go to pull a cardigan around myself.

            “I’m afraid I can’t let you do that,” he says as he follows me around my room. I can smell the alcohol on his breath from five feet away and it makes my stomach turn. It smells especially pungent today. “You’ve got a commitment today, remember? Effie would be so disappointed to know you’ve forgotten.”

            Immediately I tense up. Things come back to me. I had forgotten about yet _another_ meeting with Cinna to choose a wedding dress. I hardly felt like putting on a bra and pants, let alone struggling to squeeze into a dozen wedding dresses.

            “Great,” I mumble. I glare at Haymitch, who keeps smirking. “I got the message. Let me get dressed.”

            “Whatever you say, princess.” He giggles and Prim finally escorts him out of my room, giving me an apologetic look over the shoulder. The smell of alcohol still lingers in the air and I sigh, stripping out of my bedclothes so I can throw on something decent.

            By the time I’m dressed and have brushed my hair and teeth, my prep team is practically breaking down my bedroom door. I politely hug and kiss and greet them as they squeal and coo over me like I’m a newborn baby.

            “Oh, Katniss, you’re going to look lovely in all those dresses! I’m so excited to see what you’ll choose!” Octavia squeaks as she powders my face. I have to try not to sneeze on her. “I was sad to see that dress with the rubies go. You didn’t like that one? I loved it! Oh, I have to get some rubies when we get back to the Capitol!”

            Just like that, they’re off again, talking about jewels and wigs and makeup and all these things I have no knowledge of, nor do I care about. All I can do is stand there and think of the pain in my back and my head while they beautify me. Why today? Why couldn’t they just let me lie in bed with a pillow over my head? Because I have expectations to meet and an image to uphold. Our audience – rather, the people in the Capitol, as I’m sure no one in the districts actually cares what my wedding dress will look like – is waiting for me to be paraded in front of the cameras yet again.

            Haymitch was right. We never get off this train, as much as I’m trying to break free from it. I look in the mirror and see myself, frizzy hair tamed and blemishes hidden under beautiful makeup. The dark brown eyeshadow accentuates my eyes, and I think that maybe makeup isn’t so bad. If the stakes were not so high, I could someday learn to enjoy being dolled up. Prim certainly would. She wouldn't put up such a fuss, and God knows she has infinitely more charisma. Haymitch is also right in that I am less charming than a dead slug. Maybe the alcohol hasn’t damaged his brain too much.

            “You look beautiful,” she says, and I discern her soft voice over the chorus of high-pitched, Capitol-accented compliments. Venia, Flavius and Octavia part so that I can see my sister.

            “That’s _with_ makeup,” I reply with a smile. My cheeks redden when she hugs me and I pat her back affectionately. “You don’t need makeup.” How did Prim turn into a young woman seemingly overnight? Just months ago I was telling her to tuck in her shirttail and she was still sleeping in my bed. A different bed, a different house, a different time. A different me.

            I am taken downstairs to the living room, where cameras have been set up and a rack filled with dresses in plastic bags is waiting for me. I wince at the thought of having to be tied, buttoned, and zipped into each one. To each his own private terror, right? For Gale, it’s working the mines seventy-two hours a week. For Peeta, it’s dealing with the unreturned love of a distant stranger. For Haymitch, it’s running out of alcohol. For me, amongst other things, it’s being a Capitol doll.

            I spot Cinna and he takes me behind the changing curtain. “Katniss, relax. It’s just like last time. You’ll try each one of the dresses on, spin around in it, and at least pretend that you like it. Can you do that for me?” He fixes a stray lock of my hair and I nod. As long as Cinna is here with me, I might not go ballistic.

            “I really have to wear the dress people choose for me?” I say, mildly appalled. With my luck it will involve an unhealthy amount of beads, feathers, and lace. Maybe it will be enough to hide my face under.

            “I think the voting part is incidental. Don’t worry. I won’t let them pick the worst one,” he says with a smile. The light catches his gold eyeliner and he embraces me. “You look beautiful, no matter what.”

            The first dress is brought out and I of course think it’s ghastly. It is strapless and sheer except for the intricate, bold lace detail that almost covers it entirely. The buxom skirt makes my waist three times its size and I can’t turn around without hitting someone. The veil is of a matching lace pattern and when it is placed on my head, I feel the material go past my elbows all the way to the floor.

            “I’m a fire hazard,” I mutter as Cinna finishes smoothing out the skirt. There is more fabric on my body than there is skin. He chuckles, shakes his head, and ushers me out once I have an acceptable smile on my face.

            “Oh, so elegant! You look regal,” Venia gushes. It is the best compliment anyone can come up with. I am smiling but I want to burn the thing until it is a pile of lacy ash. Cinna senses my discomfort and we move on to the next dress, which I actually like. It too is strapless and mostly sheer, but instead of lace it has some gold floral detailing on the bodice and in parts of the skirt. It flows and I can safely move in it. The smile on my face is genuine; Cinna notices this. He sees I like this one.

            So does everyone else in the room. There is a collective gasp and I am cooed over once again. I momentarily forget about my discomfort, physical and otherwise, and allow myself to strut around the room for a moment. When I have had enough of the dress I go behind the curtain and Cinna helps undress me.

            “Call me crazy but I think you actually liked that one,” he says with a smile. Once I’m free of the dress I rub my back and watch him take out the next garment.

            “Don’t tell anyone. I’m not supposed to enjoy this, remember?” I joke. As the tulle of the next dress comes spilling out of its garment bag, I press my fingers to my temple. The pain is still there and with all this stress it’s only getting worse. Stand up straight, smile, giggle, prance around, be happy and excited. Repeat. It’s my wedding dress, after all, and I will only get to wear it once after this. Any other girl from Panem could only dream of having my luck, and I would happily hand it off to her.

            Madge, for example. The closest thing I have to a female friend my age is Madge Undersee, and she is at home watching this right now, just like everyone else who isn’t working. She owns much nicer dresses than I did before I was a victor, but definitely nothing like this. Nothing like the next gown I am corralled into. It’s more of a light steel color instead of white, but I like it. The sleeves are made of silver flowers and leaves and the satin bodice extends into a full tulle skirt that swishes quietly when I walk. The veil covers my face and I feel like a gothic beauty. The chorus of _oohs_ and _ahhs_ sounds again and soon I am back behind the curtain, but this time, I sit down. My voluminous skirt swallows up anything in its path.

            “I don’t feel good,” I mumble, elbow on the armrest of my chair and eyes on my skirt. I blink slowly, feeling exhausted even though I’ve been awake for just an hour, two at the most.

            Cinna sighs and crouches next to me, taking my other hand. “Katniss, I know this is rough. I know the dresses aren’t your favorite thing, but we have to do this. Remember?” he says softly. His fingers stroke the back of my hand and I eventually meet his gaze. He’s right. However exhausted and sick I may feel, the show must go on.      

            Sick? I didn’t feel sick ten minutes ago. Now that I’ve thought of it, the familiar feeling in my stomach makes itself known. I groan quietly and sink further into my chair. “I didn’t get breakfast,” I explain to Cinna. “I’ll be fine. I just need something to eat.”

            He motions for someone to get me food. My sister is on it and before long returns with biscuits and some leftover toast. I give her my thanks before devouring the entire thing, and she raises her eyebrows when I hand her a crumb-covered plate just moments later. The grumbling in my stomach subsides and I am free to go on. And I do.

* * *

             After the special I run to my room to change into something comfortable, namely lounge pants and a forest green blouse. I almost drift off to sleep when a soft knock sounds at my door.

            “Come in,” I say once I’m sure it isn’t Haymitch. The absence of drunken grunts and curses clues me in. It’s only three, so it can’t be Gale. He’ll still be in the mines for another few hours. When the door opens I see a blonde figure, too tall to be Prim but I know it isn’t my mother.

            “If it’s any help, I liked the ball gown one,” Madge says. I am so relieved to see her that I smile and move to the foot of my bed. She hugs me and I relax almost immediately. We had never been too close before my Games, but now that I have returned I’ve made a good friend in her. “You looked so beautiful in all of those dresses. So different, but…wow,” she whispers.

            We pull back to look at each other and I smile a little wider. Dresses and boys were never our favorite conversation pieces growing up, but here we are, talking about the combination of the two. My stomach lurches a bit and I decide to change the subject. “So when will I get to listen to you play some more piano?”

            She lies down on the bed and fidgets with the belt of her dark green dress. I’m rubbing off on her. “Any time you want. I mean, I know you’re busy, but I’m almost always at home.” Her eyes watch me as I lie down next to her. We lie there and I imagine this is just how any other girls would behave. Not really talking about anything in particular, just laying there, being girls. I wouldn’t know. I’ll probably never know.

            She doesn’t ask me about Peeta, which I’m grateful for. She doesn’t ask about the Capitol or the other districts. I feel like a normal human being. We lie there for what seems like an eternity, and I’m okay with that. The pain in my back is still there but I’ve gotten used to it by now. I nibble at some of the cookies my mother left me on a plate. I must look ridiculous, because Madge laughs.

            “What?” I ask, brushing some crumbs away from my breasts. I smile awkwardly, confused, and she just shakes her head.

            “Oh, nothing,” she says in that voice that says the exact opposite. “Just wondering about something.”

            I furrow my brow when I look at her. “And what is that?”

            She grins and rolls onto her side to face me, and when she finishes her sentence I go pale. “Just how long have you been pregnant?”


	2. Only For Now

            Madge tells me she knows because her mother was pregnant a few years back, but lost the baby. The aches, the fatigue, the constant hunger (which didn’t seem new to me), the weight gain and swelling of my breasts, the lack of a period – all of it comes together now. I am a fool for not even considering it. All I can think is _how? How did this happen?_ Of course I know how it happened, but it still seems like such a far away concept. It seems so impossible, considering the odds. Underfed bodies, unintentional timing, thousands of small miracles in succession of one another. Somehow, this is happening. Somehow, I have a child inside of me.

            Madge is excited. I am terrified.

            My mother will know soon, if she doesn’t already. I wouldn’t be surprised if she has taken the hints over the past several weeks and has just been waiting for me to figure it out on my own. Once she knows, Prim will know. My Capitol doctor will find out. Cinna will have to make adjustments to my dresses. Peeta will have to come up with something like he always does. Gale will have to know – won’t he?

            Long after Madge leaves I am still awake in my bed, sitting in the dark and staring at my stomach. It is early April. Gale has been sleeping with me since a couple months before the tour in January. I have no idea when this happened, but I cannot be too far along. When my mother was pregnant with Prim, it was obvious from the second month on. Now that we have more food, it may be a little easier to hide my development.

            I’m thinking like a crazy person. There is no way I can carry a baby to term, much less care for an entirely dependent human for the next couple of decades. My hands start trembling when I place them on my stomach. It bulges just barely and could be passed off as a large meal. This is how I began my life, small and warm and helpless. This tiny being depends on me as I did on my mother and father. They were no victors but had brought up two daughters, so how hard could it be for someone blessed with Capitol riches to successfully raise a child?

            I think of Rue and her family, all of her wide-eyed little siblings in District Eleven. If I had been ten seconds faster, I could have saved her. My skin turns to gooseflesh. Ten seconds, and Rue could be back home safe with her family. If that’s all it took for me to lose one child, how am I supposed to watch over one for eighteen years?

            My status as a victor does not mean immunity for my children. If this baby grows up, he will have to go through the immense dread of Reaping Day for seven years. I don’t doubt that Snow would rig it so he could watch me suffer. That man has lived a long life while watching hundreds of children die at his command. He would toast to my child’s death. The thought makes me physically ill and I sprawl out on the bed, my hair hanging over the edge of the mattress.

            Gale has to know. He’s as much a parent to this baby as I am. His love for family dominates everything. If I terminate the pregnancy – an abhorrent option but I realize I may have no other choice – he will most likely never speak to me again. If I conspire to pass off this baby to the world as Peeta’s, Gale will not like it one bit. If I have the baby _and_ stay with Gale, we will be in even worse danger than before. This little being inside of me is going to cause much more trouble than talk in the mines and three-finger salutes. Whispers began with the berries, riots began with the speech in Eleven – what would a baby do? A baby would be the catalyst for a full-out war.

            Gale cannot know. He would take things into his own hands with disastrous consequences. Peeta and I would be exposed as liars and Snow would have a dozen peacekeepers at the throats of my loved ones in a matter of minutes. The talk in the mines would turn to riots, to revolution, to war, and there would be infinitely more blood spilled. My mother, Prim, Vick, Rory, Posy, Hazelle, Madge, Greasy Sae, Effie, Cinna, Haymitch, my prep team, Peeta, Gale. Everyone I have ever cared for and who has cared for me is already at risk. There can be no rebellion. I will have no future unless it is the one Snow has determined for me. When he runs out of ways to break me, I will be expendable.

            I feel like a little girl plucking petals from wildflowers. _I tell him. I tell him not. I tell him. I tell him not. I tell him…I tell him not._

I torture myself with this thinking until finally sleep overtakes me.

* * *

            The only thing in my dreams is the tiny girl. She stands behind a wall and bangs on it with her fists, braids flying. I can’t see her face and I can’t help her. All I can do is watch her scream.

* * *

            Gale is the one who rouses me from sleep. I had not even noticed him enter my bed, just assumed that he had come. I have no idea how long he has been beside me but his presence is always reassuring. Except today, I am still nervous around him. Today I have a secret, and I don’t keep secrets from Gale.

            “Catnip,” he says, his voice half a whisper. He looks down at me and touches my shoulder. The calluses on his hands feel strangely comforting. I am suddenly paranoid. Does he know? Has he figured it out? All these half-nights spent together and our sacred Sundays might have given him enough clues. He would not wait this long to confirm it; he would have asked me upfront.

            “When did you get in?” I murmur, blinking the sleep from my eyes. The little girl has stopped screaming at last. I fell asleep in my clothes from yesterday and suddenly I am very aware of the wires of my bra digging into my ribs. This is only going to get worse over the next several months. Gale watches me as I sit up and I must be a sight for sore eyes because he chuckles.

            “You’re beautiful in the morning, you know that? Well, all the time…but especially like this.” He leans forward and presses a gentle kiss to my lips. My heartbeat accelerates and I kiss him back, eyes closed and skin growing warmer. In all my worrying about the baby, I seem to have forgotten about Gale himself. I know that I love him. I just don’t know if he’s figured that out yet for himself.

            _“I love you. Do you love me?”_ he had asked when I wanted him to run away with me. I had answered him in the worst way possible. I owe him a real answer.

“Yes,” I whisper. Gale pauses and holds my face in both hands, which makes me look up at him. He’s confused. I just kiss his lips again and he questions me no further.

            It’s easy to forget the purpose of sex when you’re so wrapped up in your lover. No wonder I virtually forgot about the possibility of pregnancy all those times. He has limited time before he goes back to the mines and I want him with me. None of those girls who whispered about him at school ever came half this far. One night he reassured me that no, none of those rumors were true. Once upon a time he might have entertained the idea, but he is mine. And I am his.

            I feel small when I’m with him like this. He’s well over six feet tall whereas I am a few inches shy of six. He has hair and scars where I have soft skin perfected by the Capitol. Most notably he has the scars on his back where dozens of lashes ripped apart his skin months before. His cries and groans haunt me as much as the cracking of the whip does. Every time I think of that day I want to scream. I am the girl behind the glass, crying for help, wanting to change everything, but I cannot. He will forever live with the reminder of his flogging, and so will I.

            I remind myself to be happy while I have this time with him. I am not in the Capitol, not being filmed, not on tour, not with my team. He is not in the mines or tending to his family. We have such little time to ourselves and it is precious. I can’t afford to be distracted right now. I lie down under him and curl my arms up under his arms so I can hold his shoulders.

            After a low moan he breathes my name. He doesn’t have a shirt on so it is easy for him to undress. I take care of my own clothes and glance at my stomach while he kisses my neck. There is the smallest bulge around my navel and it is definitely not just a big meal sitting in my stomach. Can he feel it as he presses against me? Can he feel his baby? I am still baffled by the idea of Gale and I having a child. I suppose now I’ve come to terms with it, since I’m thinking like this. Well, at least I’m entertaining the idea of having a family with Gale. If we had run away, where would we be now?

            I part my legs for him, soft breaths escaping my lips as he moves ever closer. Nothing else in the world matters right now. It’s such a cliché thing to say, but it’s true. We could be a family, Gale and I. A part of me wants to run off, have this baby, and live happily ever after. Impossible on many levels, but a nice thought nonetheless.

            I think too much.

            “Don’t go,” I whisper. His eyes meet mine and I pull him down by the scruff of his neck, kissing him deeply. Without hesitation he is inside me. Our breaths are ragged but in time; whenever he moans, I whimper. The mattress utters the occasional groan but otherwise we are quiet. It is still too early for my mother and sister to be awake. The house is large enough that we don’t have to worry about that anyway. He fills me and I feel utterly complete. Whenever I want a kiss his lips are there, his hands caress the most sensitive parts of my body, and I feel celestial.

            I don’t keep track of time. All I know is that when we finish – and we both do, our lovemaking is hardly ever rushed – he gives me a tender kiss and rises to clean up. I am left alone in my bed, with the smell of sex in the air and a strange quivering in my belly. I listen to him wash up in the adjacent bathroom and when he comes out he is in his work uniform.

            “Katniss,” he says with a smile and kneels beside me. He takes my hands in his and kisses them. I feel his warm lips and his handsome stubble against my skin. “I love you.”

            Now is my chance to reply. Now I can make up for my dumbfounded response months ago. _I know,_ I had said. _You know how I feel about you._ I can feel my lips forming the words I want to say. Three little words that had the power to make or break a person, a relationship, or a country – no wonder I am so hesitant. Love means too much to me for me to just throw it around. With Prim, it’s easy. I have never questioned how I feel about her. With Peeta, I feel love for him in a different way. We have experienced a lot together in less than a year, but the romance aspect is an invention. Gale, on the other hand, is complicated. But so are most things nowadays.

            I sit up and wrap my arms around his waist, my cheek resting against his chest. “I love you, too.” My cheeks flush and he smiles. I have never seen him smile quite like this, especially before going to work. I can’t help but return the smile, and he kisses me again before leaving.

* * *

            Without Gale by my side I grow more nervous. Something has to be done about this baby. None of the viable options are very pleasant, and none of the pleasant options are very viable. I emerge from my room for the first time in almost twenty-four hours. No cameras today, thank God. My sister is in the living room with Buttercup and my mother is mixing herbs for medicine in the kitchen. I sit beside Prim on the loveseat and Buttercup grumbles at me, but decides to tolerate me.

            “Good morning, Katniss.” Prim’s voice is so soft and almost musical, just hearing her speak brings a smile to my face. “Did you sleep well?”

            Without mentioning the nightmares, I shrug. “Pretty average, I guess.” The color in her cheeks tells me that she knows Gale was here. “What about you?”

            “I had some weird dreams.”

            “Oh, it must be contagious, then.” I look across the hall at my mother, who comes toward us.

            “Prim, will you go see if Hazelle has any thyme she’ll trade with me?” She wipes her hands on her apron and Prim gets up. Buttercup grunts as he lands on the floor and he watches his beloved owner until she leaves the house. I am rarely alone with my mother, so this is odd. She takes Prim’s seat and puts a hand on mine. Her skin is weathered, dry and cool, different from mine and different from Gale’s.

            “Sweetheart, I wanted to ask you something,” she says after a moment. She is rubbing the back of my hand with her thumb and I can tell she is worried about something. If she has caught on, I’ll be relieved. That makes one less person I’ll have to blurt it out to. “You and Gale, have you been…”

            “Yes,” I murmur before she embarrasses us both. Have we been sleeping together? Yes. Have we been careful? Not really. But when are we ever careful? We are both forces of nature.

            “Okay.” She nods like she is carefully considering what to say next. “Have you ever considered that you might be…you might be pregnant?” The final words are a whisper, like someone is watching us. Maybe they are. If Snow somehow snuck cameras inside of my house, I am doomed. I couldn’t even reply when he showed me the stolen kiss by the Hob; how am I supposed to defend Gale if Snow finds out what we do behind closed doors?

            It dawns on me that my mother is trying to help. I have been so busy providing for our family that I have forgotten that she is primarily here to take care of me. I move closer to her and rest my head on her chest. She wraps her arms around me and sighs.

            “What if I am?” I ask in a quiet voice. I can’t remember the last time my mother held me like this. It must have been before my father died. “What do I do?”

            She tilts my chin up and I look into her eyes. She has been pregnant twice. She was me once – scared, nervous and clueless. Maybe I was unexpected, too. The thought of having a child who grows to cause as much trouble as I have is disconcerting, and this baby has _two_ troublemakers for parents.

            “I’ll take care of you. I won’t say a word unless you tell me it’s okay,” she says in a low voice. “You tell me what the plan is, and I’ll do whatever I can, Katniss.” She kisses my forehead and I close my eyes, smelling herbs and spices on her. I’m starting to feel this might be easier than I thought, and that’s dangerous.

             Now two people know. Madge and my mother are trustworthy and will take my secret to the grave, if need be. I don’t want to consider that possibility, but it is comforting to know that I have two people helping me. I tell my sister later that night, when she has gone up to bed and Buttercup is curled up on her chest, purring happily.

            “Really?” she asks when I finish explaining my situation. She continues to stroke the cat’s thick yellow fur. We sit there quietly for a while, the only sound being Buttercup’s gravelly purrs. “Well…what are you going to do?” Her eyes are wide, concerned, but she doesn’t look so tiny anymore. Less than a year has passed since she panicked in the line for the Reaping but she looks much more mature. She proved that when she helped take care of Gale.

            “I’m not sure,” I reply quietly. “I can’t get rid of it. That wouldn’t solve anything.” It really wouldn’t. I would spend the rest of my life regretting it and besides, murdering a child would only make me more like Snow. I was aiming to be as far from that as possible.

            Prim touches my hand and I take a deep breath, which seems to relax me a bit. “You’ll figure it out, Katniss. You always do.”


	3. Whispers

            A few weeks pass and I am restless. So far, I have kept my secret between my mother, Prim, and myself. The dreams grow longer, more agonizing. My mother tells me it’s normal to have vivid dreams while pregnant but I refuse to disclose their nature. I have caused her enough grief; there’s no need to have her worry about one more thing. The baby’s father is not discussed. To those who know me as well as my family, it’s obvious that Peeta cannot be the father, which leaves one option.

            Gale has to know sooner or later, as does Peeta, but all I can do is bounce back and forth in my head. Which boy do I tell first? Do I let them figure it out themselves? What am I even going to say? As the days go on I lose more and more time to make my own decision. I’ve already taken to wearing looser clothing but that will only hide me for so long. May is here and I can’t go on wearing sweaters and jackets forever. Soon it will be summer.

            It’s a Thursday evening when I decide to see Peeta. I cross the courtyard to his house and stand on the front step, my fist raised in hesitation. Finally I knock on the door and tuck my hands into my jean pockets.

            “Ah, it’s you.” A young man who looks like Peeta answers the door and looks me up and down, brows slightly raised. I have never personally interacted with either of his brothers, so to say this is uncomfortable is an understatement.

            “Hi, is Peeta here? I wanted to talk to him.” I smile, tuck a stray lock of hair behind my ear, and even bat my eyelashes. After all, I’m madly in love with his brother, or at least I’m supposed to be.

            “I figured you two would have tabs on each other all the time.” He opens the door a little more but not enough to let me through. “Just what do you want from him?”

            I remind myself to be convincing and I look at my feet, smiling sheepishly. “I, um…I just wanted to, you know…talk to him.” I giggle and bring my eyes back up. My cheeks are pink from what I’m insinuating, but he buys it. He smiles coyly and steps aside to let me in.

            “By all means, come in, Katniss. I suppose I have to be nice to my future sister-in-law.” He smirks and walks me to the foot of the stairs. The house is identical to mine and I feel like I already know my way around here, though I have stepped foot in here maybe once or twice.

            It’s a good thing I have my hands in my pockets because I am not wearing my engagement ring. I rarely ever wear the thing unless I’m being filmed or am somewhere other than home or the woods. It wouldn’t hurt to keep it on, for appearance’s sake, but it feels wrong. I don’t want to be adorned and molded into something I’m not anymore. Now is not the time to get into another argument with my conscience, though. I follow Peeta’s brother upstairs and to a door down the hall.

            “Hey, you’ve got a visitor.” The older boy raps his knuckles on the door and walks off, turning his head when the door opens like he wants to listen in.

            “Hey, there you are! I missed you,” I pout and wrap my arms around Peeta. I sigh and kiss him, which makes his brother leave at last.

            Peeta’s eyebrows are raised when I stop kissing him and he lets me into his room. “Alright, what’s this about?”

            He sounds hurt, as he should be. His feelings are at stake here and all I do is toy with them for my advantage. What kind of person am I? I take off my jacket and hang it on his doorknob before leaning against the wall. His room is decorated with his own paintings – beautiful things, really. A sunset hangs over his bed and I spot other familiar sights he’s recreated on canvases. The stars in the arena, a sleeping goat, a train snaking through the mountains, and one that makes me chew the inside of my cheek. Opposite his bed hangs a portrait of me, but from a different time. I’m much smaller and more wide-eyed. My hair is in two braids and I’m in a red dress that had faded to pink by the time Prim inherited it. I know instantly what this is.

            “You painted me singing the valley song?” I blink a couple of times and move closer to the painting. His skill is remarkable. I don’t even remember what I was wearing that day, but he does. “That’s only slightly embarrassing.”

            He smiles and stands next to me. “I was hoping I did you justice. I couldn’t get your eyes right for the longest time. And it was hard to do two braids, since you haven’t worn those in years.”

            I look at him and study his face. He knows so many things about me just from watching and it’s as touching as it is unsettling. “It’s really good. Really,” I say after a pause. A small smile is on my lips and then I cross my arms over my chest. “I came here to talk to you.”

            “I didn’t think it was for anything more,” he replies. He smiles like it’s a joke but I pick up on the hurt in his voice. “So what is it you need me to do this time?” He sits on the foot of his bed and watches me.

            I inhale slowly and then let it out in a long sigh. “I, um…I have a problem. A personal problem.”

            “Is everything alright?” His voice is concerned.

            “Um…sort of. Not really. I don’t know.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. I’m too nervous to talk to him about this. If he didn’t resent me before, he will once I tell him I’m pregnant with Gale’s child. I’m insane for expecting him to help me through this after all I’ve done to hurt his feelings. “I don’t know what to do, and I have to do something before everybody knows and I won’t have anything to say to them.”

            Peeta scoots over and invites me to sit next to him, which I do. He sets a hand on my shoulder and gets me to look at him. “Katniss, if you’re in danger, you need to tell me. Is it what you told me about? Did Snow threaten you more?” His jaw clenches after he says the words.

            “No, not yet,” I mumble. “But he will soon, if he even warns me before doing something. Which he probably wouldn’t.” Snow would have Gale killed with the wave of a hand if he were to discover this baby is not Peeta’s. His patience has reached its limits and now I have to suffer the consequences. Real consequences, not just warnings.

            “Then what is it? What’s going on?” All I’m doing is confusing him. He can’t read my mind, and God knows I’m no good at putting things into words.

            I swallow and stare at the floor. “Promise me you won’t be angry.”

            He shakes his head. “Katniss, when have I ever been angry with you? Come on. Whatever it is, we’ll get through it. Just like we always do. Right?” He puts his arm around my shoulders and tries to get me to look at him, but all I can do is shake my head and look down. “Katniss, please. If you want me to keep quiet about it, I will. You have my word.”

            My breath is shaky as I put a hand on my stomach. “I’m pregnant,” I whisper. I hear the words as they leave my mouth but they are not in my voice. It’s someone else talking. I’m disembodied, disconnected, watching and listening from somewhere else.

            I see Peeta’s mouth drop out of the corner of my eye. Before he can say anything, I go on in an attempt to explain myself. “I…Gale and I have been together in secret, since…since last year.” My voice is low, like I’m not only mortified but also trying to be as quiet as possible. We can never be sure who’s listening. “He doesn’t know. I haven’t told anyone but my family and now you.”

            He scoffs and I don’t have to look at him to know this is a rough blow for him. When I finally look over at him, his head is in his hands. “Well, that’s a comfort. You told me before you told him? I would have thought you’d go running to him with the good news.”

            My brow furrows and I cross my legs. “Look, I told you because I need your help. I know this isn’t ideal for any of us, but please…if you love me, Peeta, I need you to do this for me. I need you to help me.” My eyes are pleading him and just barely wet with the prospect of tears. If I cry, that truly makes me pathetic.

            “What do you want me to do? Pretend it’s mine?” His voice is incredulous. He looks up at me and I nod.

            “Yes. Snow can’t find out about Gale. If he does, he’ll kill him. He wanted to kill him for just a kiss, I can’t…I don’t want to think about what he’ll do when he finds out we’ve been having _sex_ —“

            “Stop,” Peeta interjects, holding up a hand. I freeze and back off, wanting nothing more than to crawl in a hole somewhere. “I don’t want to hear it, okay? I can figure that part out by myself. I’m not stupid, you know.” Of course he isn’t, he more than proved his intelligence in our Games.

            “That’s why I need you,” I murmur. “You can handle all this, you can do interviews and all that. If it’s just me up there, I’m going to blow it. You heard Haymitch all those times. I’m as charismatic as dirt.”

            We sit quietly for a few moments but I don’t think I could hear him over my own heartbeat even if he did speak. I’m so nervous that he’ll shoot me down that I can’t get my body to relax.

            “Please, Peeta,” I whisper. I gently touch his hand and move closer to him, my hair brushing against his shoulder. “I trust you. I wouldn’t have come to you if I didn’t. I wouldn’t be in this whole mess if I didn’t trust you and care about you.”

            He presses his forehead against mine and I can feel the breaths that leave his nostrils. His eyes are closed but when he opens them he plants a soft kiss on my forehead and squeezes my hands. “Okay,” he says very quietly. “I’ll do it. For you, Katniss.”

* * *

 

            The more people that know, the less comfortable I become. Peeta makes four – four people that could potentially get hurt because of what they know. And still the person who has the most right to know, the person whose child I am carrying, has no idea.

            I wake when the sun has just barely risen. It casts a deep orange glow through the curtains and I can see Gale lying on his stomach beside me. I sit up, back against the headboard, and stroke his cheek with my knuckle. He murmurs incoherently and settles further into his pillow. His side of the bed, his blanket, and his pillow…all these things I’ve let him take because I want to be near him. Is that so selfish, to want someone all to yourself? Considering what is at stake, it is incredibly selfish. I am risking harm and death to myself and to Gale just so I can be with him. In moments like this, though, it all seems worth it.

            “Gale,” I whisper. I can barely hear myself, so I’m certain he hasn’t been disturbed. I run my finger along his dark brown stubble, which makes him look even more handsome. This is the boy who was a man at just fourteen, skimming the six-foot mark, and now at nineteen he’s lying half-naked beside me. He will always be bigger, stronger, and braver than me, and that’s what I need. I can’t take care of so many people _and_ myself – I alone am a handful. But Gale has always taken care of me, and I take care of him. It’s what we do.

            My heart is in my mouth as I consider telling him right now. What could possibly happen? In a moment like this I’m invincible. I stroke each of his scars with my fingertips, torn between blurting it out now or just savoring the peacefulness. I wish it was Sunday. I wish it could always be Sunday and he wouldn’t have to go to that dust-filled grave until the sun goes down, leaving me breathless until he returns.

            Before I can gather up the courage to tell him, he wakes up. Just looking at him makes me lose all the words I had planned to say. He smiles tiredly, sees the sun outside the window, and kisses my lips. I murmur against his mouth and watch him get up to take a shower. Once the bathroom door is closed and I hear water running, I pull back the sheet and look at myself. I catch my reflection in the mirror beside my bed and run my fingers through my hair. I already look different – warmer, softer, bigger. My eyes assess my body for a few more seconds and I jump up to dress myself. “Not going to be able to hide you for long, am I?” I mumble to my stomach.

            “I’ll see you tonight,” Gale whispers when he finishes dressing. I nod, my eyes scanning the ground and then flitting back up to meet his. He pulls me in by my waist and tilts my chin up so he can kiss me properly. “Be good, Catnip.”

* * *

 

            After Gale has reported to the mines for duty, I decide to pay Peeta another visit. I walk across the courtyard to his house and before I can knock, he opens the door.

            “Katniss,” he sighs with relief. He smiles and pulls me in for a hug. His family is out of the house from what I can tell. “Come on inside. I just made breakfast.”

            I smell tea and cookies when I walk into the living room that is a mirror image of my own. His ring is around my finger and I fidget with it as I wander over to the loveseat.

            “You want something to eat?” He offers me a plate of cookies that still have steam rising from them. I want to devour them all.

            “Thanks,” I smile. I take a cookie and must thoroughly enjoy it, because the next time I look at the plate all that remain are crumbs. We both laugh and my cheeks turn pink.

            “You look happier today,” Peeta says after a while. He’s sitting in an armchair to the side, watching me with tender eyes. “Did you sleep well?”

            We both know how awful the nightmares are. That’s something only seventy-three other people could ever say. My dreams, while puzzling, have at least not revolved around killing other children lately. I’ve lost count of how many times I have had to relive the deaths of Marvel, Cato, Glimmer, Clove, and Rue. I have Gale to keep me company, and he keeps most of the nightmares away.

            “Yeah, for the most part. I’m not complaining.” I smile and take a drink of tea.

            He nods, happy to hear that I’m not waking up screaming more nights than not. “I wanted to ask you a few things. About…what we’re doing. We need a plan.”

            Peeta always wants to discuss strategy, and I suppose it’s a good idea. Our time is short and we have to be able to handle what’s coming for us.

            “We need to tell Haymitch, first of all.”

            “That you’re covering me?” That will only make Haymitch hate me more. I can already imagine him lecturing me about all the pain I put Peeta through.

            “No,” he shakes his head. “We tell him that the baby’s mine. No cover-up, no Gale. If we need to convince Snow, we have to convince everyone else, too.”

            How much has he thought about this since I told him last night? He’s more prepared than I am.

            I purse my lips and look at my lap. “He knows just how we are around one another. He won’t buy it.”

            Peeta sighs like I’m missing the point. “We make him buy it. We tell him how hard it’s been, adjusting to our new lives and all that. One thing led to another and we realized how real everything was between us.”

            I can hear myself swallow in the ensuing silence. This is all becoming way too real for me and my stomach churns. “I, um…okay. Okay, I can do that.”

            He moves closer to me and takes my hands in his. “Katniss, trust me. I’m not trying to take you away from him. I want all of us to be safe. I owe you, after what you’ve done for me.”

            I look into his eyes and can’t believe how lucky I am. Had it been some other, less compassionate boy in his place, he would have turned me in to Snow by now if he hadn’t already killed me in the arena. My eyes brim with tears and all I can do is nod.

            “Hey, hey, it’s alright,” he whispers. He pulls me into his arms and pets my hair, letting me get tears all over his shirt collar. “You tell me when, Katniss. But it should be sooner rather than later. We can do this.”

            I know he can convince just about anyone. The question is whether or not I can do the same.


	4. Biting Down

            “You’re _what?_ ”

            Peeta and I have managed to rouse Haymitch from a late-afternoon nap. He reeks of whiskey and I’m trying not to breathe it in. I’m wearing a navy blue dress that Peeta practically had to wrestle me into.

            “Pregnant,” I say with as big a grin as I can manage. My nose twitches at the strong smells of unwashed hair, spilled alcohol, and old trash. How can Haymitch stand living like this? I do my best not to gag, as that would be impolite.

            Even with a hangover, he can see through the bull. “Really? Do you know how that happens, sweetheart? Do you know the _steps_ involved?”

            “Hey. Don’t talk to my fiancée like that,” Peeta interjects. He squeezes my hand and looks into my eyes. “Of course we know how it happened, it’s just like it happens with everyone else. We fell in love, things…progressed, and here we are.”

            “I missed the part where you fell in love. Last I saw, you two were as warm as an icebox.”

            “Things happen, Haymitch. I wasn’t expecting it, but…” I smile warmly at Peeta and feel my cheeks redden. “It just happened. One thing led to another and I finally realized how much I love him.”

            I lean in to kiss his lips and we both smile. Peeta places his hand on my belly, which really seems like just a layer of pudge at this point. _Buy it. Come on, just buy it. I want to go home. I’m going to throw up if I have to smell your armpits anymore._

Haymitch rolls his eyes, shakes his head, and slowly gets up from his chair. “You two are gonna keep this quiet, understand? We won’t tell the world until we have a game plan. As excited as you both are, we still have to be careful.”

            Something tells me he hasn’t bought our act. I stand up and put a hand to my forehead, sighing. “I don’t feel so good. I think I’m gonna go home, is that okay?” I smile apologetically at Peeta. I’m not lying, either. One more breath of this place and I’m going to hurl.

            Peeta gets up to kiss me goodbye. I kiss him in return and as I leave, I see Haymitch grab his arm out of the corner of my eye. He mutters something and Peeta’s face falls. I don’t want to know. I’m done trying to face reality. I leave them behind and sit on the bench in the courtyard. I think of how the next several months of my life are going to go. Peeta and I will announce my pregnancy to the nation, no doubt accompanied by a belly rub from Caesar. People will take bets on whether we have a boy or a girl, one baby or multiples, and when I’ll give birth. A nation will decide what we name our child. Peeta will be the doting father. I will have to live with all those lies for the rest of my life, and I hate the idea.

* * *

 

            I decide to go to the Justice Building where Madge and her family reside. This time, I do not eavesdrop on the television in Mayor Undersee’s office. The thought of seeing what’s happening out there in the other districts makes me sick.

            “Hey there,” I say as I wander into the living room, where Madge is sitting at the piano. She plays a few quiet notes before looking over at me and raising an eyebrow.

            “You look different,” she says, noting my dress. Usually she is the one in skirts, but my new role as a mother calls for a more feminine outlook. I wince at the thought and Madge smiles. “So? How are things?” she asks. I sit beside her on the piano bench and shrug.

            “Confusing,” I confess. I run my fingers along the keys, not pressing down, not daring to disturb the peace and quiet. She once tried to teach me how to play but I could never quite master it with one hand, let alone two. Madge reaches over and touches my hand gently.

            “Don’t worry about it,” she says very softly. “You’ll be great. Just look at how Prim turned out, and you practically raised her.”

            I look at her round face, framed by perfect blonde curls. She used to seem like she was from another world, with gingham dresses, shiny hair and soft, white skin…now it seems like I’m the stranger. I’m a stranger even to myself. I long for the times when I could just roll out of bed, put on jeans, and not have to be on my best behavior. When I didn’t have to watch myself with Gale. I squeeze Madge’s hand and swallow, nodding after a moment. “Thank you.”

            She nods in reply and smiles. “So, have you told him yet?”

            “No, not yet. Still chicken.”

            “Well, don’t you think he has a right to know? It’s better he finds out from you than someone else.” Once the words leave her mouth I know she’s right. Now that more and more people are learning of my condition, it’s going to be hard to keep it from Gale. I stand up and look at her, exhaling deeply.

            “I guess I have something to do, then.” I smile faintly when she kisses my cheek and we say our goodbyes.

            “Good luck, Katniss.” Madge stands and watches me leave. When I exit the building and head back into town, the sun is lower in the sky. Gale will be back from the mines in a couple of hours. My feet lead me to Victors’ Village and I avoid Haymitch and Peeta’s houses like the plague. My mother opens the door for me and ushers me inside. Immediately my heart drops to my stomach.

            “What? What is it?” I turn around, expecting to see peacekeepers, but we are alone. Are we? Is someone watching?

            “Nothing, sweetheart,” she says in a calm voice. Prim emerges from the kitchen, doe-eyed and seemingly taller than I left her this morning. She’s growing up fast and it terrifies me that she, like myself, may be robbed of her childhood.

            “Is something wrong?” I ask, still unable to shake the feeling that there is. My family looks at me and shakes their heads.

            “Do you feel alright?” Prim asks, hugging my arm and blinking those wide eyes. “Have you eaten supper yet?”

            I shake my head and say no once my pulse returns to normal. Now I suppose I truly am paranoid.

            She smiles. “Come on, we’ll make something. Mom’s got some herbs for you to take, for…” She glances at my tummy and her cheeks turn pink.

            “Yeah. For that.” I return the smile and kiss the top of her head.

* * *

 

            I go out by the mines to wait for Gale, my father’s jacket keeping me warm in the mild night air. Dozens of tired men covered in soot pass me by and it’s at least twenty minutes before Gale makes an appearance.

            “Hey,” I whisper when he stops beside me. I look up at him and it’s all I can do not to stroke his cheek and kiss him right here. “I missed you today. I always do.” I squeeze his hand but he doesn’t squeeze back, which makes me frown.

            “Let’s go inside,” he murmurs. His voice holds more than just a hint of disappointment, even sadness.

            “What is it? Did something happen?” I keep up with him as we walk toward his house in the Seam. “Gale?”

            “Wait till we’re inside.” There’s no smile on his face. Either he’s playing at something, or he’s mad. My bet is on the latter. He opens the door for me and shuts it behind us both. “Katniss, I want you to hear something.”

            My mouth goes dry. This cannot be good. He purses his lips and stares at the floor while I stand by the wall, arms crossed. “Wh-what is it?”

            “One of the men who came in today was talking about you. It was…you know, it was the funniest thing. He said he had just come in from town and had heard Haymitch going on about you and your little lover boy.” He shakes his head and smiles. This time, when he smiles, I feel sick to my stomach. It isn’t a happy smile.

            “What do you mean?” My voice is smaller than I had intended and I feel every ounce of blood in my body run cold when he steps up to me.

            “He said Haymitch was talking about you getting knocked up. Now, I know that man breathes alcohol, but he said you and Peeta had gotten cozy and that now you’re pregnant.” He doesn’t bother to hide the anger in his voice. I can feel the heat radiating from him when he tilts my chin up so he can look into my eyes.

            “Gale, I…I didn’t—“

            “I have to say, it makes a lot of sense. You’ve been acting off lately. I thought it was like my mother had been when she was pregnant all those times.” He shakes his head and utters a halfhearted laugh. “Congratulations, Katniss. I hope you’re happy now. You won’t have any trouble convincing people.” He looks into my eyes for a moment and then pulls away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His back is to me but I can tell he’s on the verge of tears just by how quiet and still he is.

            “Will you just let me explain?” My throat closes up, making it hard to speak. “Gale, please…Listen to me.”

            He shakes his head again and comes for me, hands on my shoulders. “Go. Go on and marry him, have a family, just do it now. That’s what he wants, right? That’s all he’s ever wanted, was to get in your bed.”

            I slap him hard and he barely flinches. “You don’t believe that,” I mutter. Our eyes are in a deadlock, breaths heavy and faces flushed. “You don’t believe a single word of that.”

            “Maybe I do. Maybe you’ve just gotten that good at convincing people.” His left cheek is bright red with the imprint of my hand.

            I shake my head. “You know me better than anyone, Gale. You know I would never sleep with him.”

            “Things change, Katniss. You and I know that all too well.” He touches the collar of my hunting jacket and I swallow, feeling his knuckles brush my neck.

            “The baby’s yours,” I say quietly. “It can’t possibly be anyone else’s. I swear to you, Gale, I was going to tell you. I just…I didn’t know how, I didn’t know what you would do…” I swallow again and blink back tears. “Don’t tell me it never crossed your mind, that I could get pregnant.”

            He’s quiet for what feels like eternity. “Of course it did,” he whispers. He slowly brings his hand down from my neck and lets his fingers brush over my breasts, stopping at my stomach. “That was the way we wanted to do things. I offered to—to do something, but you said no every time.”

            It isn’t that we were careless. Birth control is rare in the districts, especially in Twelve, because we are supposed to keep making children to work for the nation. Mainly they want the birth rate high so there will be more names in those glass bowls come Reaping Day. Raising lambs for the slaughter.

            “I know,” I say in a soft voice. I close my eyes when he touches my stomach. His hands are so tough and so much bigger than mine, but they belong here. For someone who’s fought to survive his whole life, he has the gentlest touch. “I’m scared.”

            He presses his forehead to mine and I feel his lips over my own. The anger and frustration is gone from us both. “I don’t know why I believed him,” he says after a moment.

            I open my eyes and stroke his cheek, the stubble scratching my skin. Before either of us can speak again, I kiss him. My fingers hold his dark hair and I pull him in, starting to walk backwards to the small room that holds a bed that has become too small for him. We’re pawing at one another, tugging on shirts and kicking off shoes amidst a flurry of kisses and sharp breaths. Soon I stand between him and his bed, completely naked, and we stop attacking each other so that he can touch the small curve of my belly.

            “Katniss,” he breathes. His calloused hands feel warm against my skin and I close my eyes as a hundred different sensations run through my veins. I fall to the mattress and graze my fingertips down the back of his neck. The scars that start at his shoulders, deep and dark, have become like a map by which I know his skin. I know his body well, and he knows mine.

            There has never been any awkwardness between us in bed, even at the very beginning. When I came back from the Games I was hardened, but he pushed beyond that with little difficulty. We both have known how the other works for five years now, but it feels like an eternity. Old souls.

            When he pushes inside me, I bite my lip. I can feel him laugh, a deep, warm, muffled sound that reverberates against my skin. “I love when you do that,” he whispers. I flit my eyes up to his, teeth still holding my lower lip, and he groans. I always bite down when we do this. If I didn’t, I would scream for that sweet release, and Snow would hear me. So for now, I am still careful. For now, I keep things quiet.


	5. Lies

            I wake up to the feeling of two little hands on my cheeks. The skin is soft and I smile at how pleasant it feels. “Who’s there?” I mumble, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. “You’re not Gale.”

            Posy stands beside the bed, her red hair shining in the incoming sunlight. She grins and hoists herself up to sit beside me. Gale is long gone, but I feel less alone than I usually do after he’s left. I lie on one side and watch her. Her chubby cheeks, pink in color, are healthier than those of many other children in the Seam. She and her brothers are so fortunate they have Gale taking care of them.

            “What are you doing up so early, miss Posy? You going to school?” I touch her hair and start to braid it, much to her amusement.

            “Uh huh. Are you gonna sleep here all the time?” she chirps. Her green eyes are bright. “Gale’s happy when you do. He likes you.” She giggles and looks down at her two new braids that I’ve just finished.

            I smile and raise my brows. “We’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we?” I kiss her forehead and she hugs me.

            “I like you, Katniss.”

            I hardly can resist the urge to squeeze her. Instead I hold her close and pat her back. “I like you too, Posy.”

            She beams and kisses my cheek before climbing out of bed, her tiny feet padding against the old wooden floor. I pull on my pants from the night before and leave my hair down. The jeans are tighter now, and it’s getting uncomfortable. I make my way into the kitchen, where Hazelle is serving breakfast to Vick and Rory, with Posy swinging her feet in her chair.

            “Good morning, Katniss,” Hazelle smiles. She starts to get a plate from the cupboard and I shake my head.

            “I don’t need breakfast,” I insist. My eyes go to the table, where the kids are eating their scrambled eggs and milk. It isn’t much, but it’s more than most people eat. It’s more than the Hawthornes themselves used to eat. “I think I’m heading home. Prim will start to worry.”

            Vick and Rory look up at me. They both look so much like Gale that it still surprises me. Rory, who is almost fourteen, is the same age Gale was when we met. I think about Gale, who I’m convinced was never a child. Five years ago, he was supporting his family all on his own, and he’s doing it to this day. I have no doubt in my mind that he will be the best kind of father. The best father for our child.

            “Katniss?”

            I blink and realize I’ve zoned out, and the Hawthornes are all staring back at me. “Huh?”

            “I said, are you ever going to teach me to hunt?” Rory asks eagerly. “You said you would.”

            I smile and stick my hands in my front pockets. “We’ll see what your brother says. I’ll see you later, okay?” I wave to them and leave, squinting in the sunlight. The walk to my house is quiet and all I can hear are my own thoughts. The flowers on the trees are blooming and I touch the petals of one before stepping into our house.

            “Is that her?” My sister’s voice comes from the living room. She and my mother peek over the couch and I smile.

            “Hi,” I say, kicking off my shoes and hanging up my jacket. I immediately start rooting through the cupboards, putting together a large breakfast for myself without really paying attention to what I’m doing. “Did I miss anything?”

            “Peeta came by,” Prim says, quietly stepping beside me. “He brought some bread and asked about you, and…I told him you were sleeping.”

            I nod and give her a small smile. She’s smarter at twelve than I ever have been, even now. “Thanks.” I bite into my bagel, which has been loaded with cream cheese. We look at each other, the Everdeen sisters who have always seemed more different than alike. But now I feel even closer to her. She isn’t just my little sister anymore, but she’s my friend. She takes care of me in ways I can’t take care of myself.

            “Are you going to be okay?” Prim asks after a moment. I look into her eyes, which are such a beautiful deep blue that I’ve always been jealous of. No wonder the nation has fallen in love with her. She’s sweeter than I can ever dream of being.

            “Okay with what?” I look at her and fix a flyaway blonde hair.

            “Everything. I’m worried about you.”

            I bite my lip and pull her close. “I know,” I whisper. “But don’t be, okay? I’m gonna take care of both of us.” I press my lips to her head and smell her hair. It’s like I’m surrounded by home.

            “I know,” she replies. She wraps her arms around my waist and I pet her hair, like I have since she had hair to begin with. “I just want you to be safe.”

* * *

 

            When I knock at his door, I’m surprised that Haymitch opens within a minute. Usually I’m the one who has to barge in and wake him up. He shuts the door right behind me, almost catching my braid in it.

            “Sit.” He points to his kitchen table, which has been cleared of bottles. My eyes go to the other person already sitting there – Peeta.

            “What’s this about?” I mumble. I sit across from Peeta and Haymitch elects to stand at the lone empty chair, leaning on it.

            “You know, you two have become pretty good liars,” he begins. My blood runs cold. “But you aren’t good enough to convince anyone too smart.”

            Peeta looks at his hands while I stare at Haymitch. It’s like we’re two kids who have just been busted by a parent and we’re waiting in agony to hear what our punishment will be.

            “Haymitch–“

            He clicks his tongue at Peeta. “You two have barely spoken to each other since you got back from the arena. You’ve done an okay job so far on camera, but if you’re going to pull off this pregnancy thing, you need to work harder at liking one another.” He stares at me. “I’m talking to you, sweetheart.”

            I swallow and avoid Peeta’s gaze. Guilt pangs in my stomach. Peeta doesn’t have to try to like me, but our relationship has always been somewhat one-sided. I’m the bad guy here, as always. “I’m not lying about being pregnant,” I mutter.

            “Oh, I know that much. But there’s no way in hell that kid is his, is there?” He raises his eyebrows and then laughs, which unsettles me even more. “I’m not going to ask about the other kid. I don’t care what you do in private, but this draws the line. You’re bringing a child into this.”

            “His name is Gale,” I say under my breath.

            “Like I said, I don’t care. The less I know, the better. All I care about is you two putting smiles on, actually being together, wearing your ring–“ he points to my bare left hand – “and being the most excited parents you could possibly be. Do you understand? There’s no more avoiding each other. No more cold shoulders, no looking like strangers. As far as anyone is concerned, you are each other’s world.”

            “Shouldn’t be too hard,” Peeta says. I stare at him and, without realizing what I’m doing, stand up. The words pour out like someone else is in control of my mouth.

            “It won’t be hard for you, will it? This is all my fault. If I had just eaten those damn berries and just died like I was supposed to, you wouldn’t be here right now! None of us would! Things would just go on as normal. But I had to stay and screw everything up. That’s why they want to get rid of me, because that’s all I do. I just make messes and everyone else has to clean them up and make me feel even more guilty. Well, don’t feel obliged anymore, because I’m done caring. Done! They can cut out my tongue if they want, but I don’t think I can take all this lying anymore. It makes me sick.”

            I shove the chair back in and swallow. I can feel my cheeks burning. Peeta has shrunk back but Haymitch sits in his chair, arms crossed, with a neutral look on his face that turns into a small smirk.

            “That’s the girl on fire that I know,” he says. I wait for him to start lecturing me, but he doesn’t. Instead he stands up, comes over to me, and puts his hands on my shoulders. “Just promise you’ll do this. If not for you, then for your family. Trust me, you’ll want to keep them safe. So grin and bear it, sweetheart. Otherwise more people are going to get hurt.”

            I scoff but the tears come to my eyes before I can stop them. My mouth opens but nothing comes out.

            “Katniss,” Peeta says. “It’s alright.” He comes over to me and takes my hand, and I don’t pull it away this time. “We’ll make it through this.”

            I nod and blink back the tears before they can fall. “So now what?”

* * *

 

            “Katniss, look at you!” Octavia squeals when she whirls me around to see myself in the mirror. My hair is wavy and soft and frames my face, which has turned into that of a doll. My lashes are long, my cheeks are pink with blush, and my lips are a baby pink that I’ve never seen on myself before. My prep team has made me into the innocent girl I no longer am, and I don’t think I ever was. I stand when she motions for me to do so and they take off my clothes. I hold my breath and Flavius grunts as he pulls up the zipper of my lavender dress, the full skirt of which tops off my doll-like demeanor.

            “It’s a little tight,” he sighs and looks over to Cinna, who finishes zipping me up.

            “It’s alright. As long as you’re comfortable, hmm?” Cinna asks, gently turning me around.

            I nod and exhale at last. “So why this look?” I ask as he tucks a barrette into my hair.

            “I know it isn’t you, Katniss. But you’re going to need all the help you can get,” he murmurs.  “You can’t look like a rebel. You can’t look like you could lead a country to war. What you need to be right now is a harmless girl.” He smiles when I make a face.

            “That’s what I am?”

            “Of course not. You’re more of a rebel.” He kisses my forehead and I wrap my arms around him. “But hopefully this will stop the whispers.”

            I think of Gale and his fellow miners, and how they talk about rebellion. My blood runs cold when I realize what is at stake here. Giving people another reason to fight, like I saw on the televisions during the tour, will do much more harm than good. Or will it? Gale wants an uprising. The flame was always there, it just took me to ignite it. Either way, I must choose my words carefully.

            When we leave my bedroom, I see that my mother and sister are already downstairs. Prim is being fawned over by Caesar and my mother is looking around, at last setting her eyes on me. She looks relieved to see a familiar face amongst all the Capitol visitors.

            “Are they gonna talk to you too?”

            She nods. “They’re going to talk to us after you and Peeta go. We’re acting like we didn’t know,” she murmurs. “Anything I should say?”

            I haven’t given my mother enough credit. I hug her and kiss her cheek. “Don’t stretch the truth too far,” I whisper. She nods again and I go to talk to Prim, but a cameraman in white dreadlocks motions to me.

            “In the courtyard, Miss Everdeen.”

            I swallow. I haven’t been called that since I last spoke with Snow. I wonder what he thinks of all this. I glance at my family before I’m whisked away into the spring sunshine.

            Caesar is wearing a purple wig when I see him sitting on a chair beside the bench. He flashes that megawatt smile and I see that Peeta is already sitting on the bench, dressed in a cream-colored suit with a tie that matches my dress.

            “You look beautiful,” Peeta says as I sit beside him. I smooth out my skirt and smile. “Are you ready?”

            I nod. Caesar and the crew already know of my pregnancy, so really the only people I’m telling are those watching on their televisions. I have to remember to talk to them. It’s convincing them that Peeta is the father that has my stomach in a knot.

            The cameraman counts down and everything else seems silent. I hear the anthem from a little speaker and watch the cameras close in on us, getting us from every angle. My breakfast threatens to make a reappearance, but I keep it down.

            “I’m here with our nation’s sweethearts – those star-crossed lovers from District Twelve, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark!” Caesar beams. He motions to us and we wave, smiling. Inside I’m screaming. “They’ve told me that they have a very important announcement to make, isn’t that right?”

            “Some very good news, Caesar,” I gush and squeeze Peeta’s hand. “We just couldn’t wait any longer to let everyone know.”

            A bird tweets in the background and I look to Peeta. _Help._

            “Now, we’re already buzzing about your engagement, so what could possibly top that?”

            Peeta laughs and looks at our entwined hands. “Well, a lot’s happened between then and now.”

            You could say that, I think. “Being on the Victory Tour and seeing how much everyone supports us only solidified what we already have. It made me realize how lucky I am to have Peeta.” I can almost hear the excited fussing from the Capitol citizens watching at home. They must be going nuts over this. “And how I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with him.”

            Caesar coos and leans in. “Does this mean we’ll finally be seeing your wedding dress, Katniss?”

            I shake my head and pout. “No, not yet, unfortunately.” When Caesar frowns, a girlish laugh rings out from my lips. Sometimes I have no idea where the sound comes from. “Besides, some alterations would have to be made if we had the wedding right now.” Caesar raises his violet eyebrows and I squeeze Peeta’s hand tighter. My palms are clammy. There’s no going back. “We’re going to have a baby.”

            Caesar gasps and the camera shows his shocked face. He looks like we’ve just told him the meaning of life.

            “We just couldn’t wait for the wedding. There was so much planning involved, and we wanted to start our family right away. It’s the natural thing to do, for two people who love one another,” Peeta says as he kisses my cheek. I turn to face him and kiss his lips very gently. It leaves a strange taste in my mouth that can only be on account of my nerves. “I hope you don’t hate us for cheating,” he says with a chuckle. I laugh along and bat my eyelashes at the camera.

            “A baby? Just how long have you been keeping this a secret from all of us?” Caesar asks.

            “About three months,” I confess shyly. “We wanted to tell everyone sooner, but the time had to be right.”

            Caesar lets out a low whistle. “So how is this going to affect going into the arena?”

            I feel the color drain from my cheeks and my smile falters. Thinking about going back into the arena makes me sick. Peeta speaks up before I can blabber out a response.

            “We’ll have to fight even harder than before. We saved each other once, we can do it again.” He puts an arm around my shoulder and kisses my temple. I perk up and smile, but still find it hard to speak.

            Caesar senses the tension and changes the subject. “Have you thought up any names?”

            I shake my head and look at Peeta. “We want to know what the rest of Panem thinks. Since you all helped bring us together…it would be lovely if you gave us ideas,” I smile.

            “Nothing too crazy, though.” Peeta smiles. “As much as we love you, no Caesars, please.”

            Caesar guffaws, his laugh contagious. The absurd idea of giving birth to a miniature Caesar, with purple hair and a full set of white teeth, makes me laugh. “Well, I don’t think that’s a bad idea. We’ll come back to you after we talk with your folks, how does that sound?”

            “Wonderful,” Peeta and I chime in at the same time, then blush and laugh awkwardly. The cameras turn off and Caesar stands up, shaking our hands.

            “Thank you, Caesar,” Peeta says as he stands up. I stay seated on the bench and turn to watch Caesar as he walks toward my house. Standing in front of the door are my mother, my sister, and someone who makes me freeze. Gale. It’s Gale. Peeta’s family stands in front of their house, but all I can see is Gale.

            “No,” I whisper. Not the handsome cousin. Snow’s chosen to have him interviewed on purpose, I know it. He wants to see me squirm. He’s daring me to turn off the act.

            “So, Mrs. Everdeen. You were so adamant about Katniss not having a boyfriend during the Games last year – how has that changed now that she’s going to be a wife and a mother?” Caesar probes my mother, whose acting talents I have never gotten the chance to appreciate. She came up with the cousin idea, after all, and with that she undoubtedly saved Gale’s life. The question is, how far can we take it?

            “Oh, things have changed. You know, Peeta is part of the family now. He proved to be the exception to my rule,” my mother laughs, hugging Prim around her shoulders. “I just hope nobody has eyes on my younger daughter.”

            Caesar chuckles. Gale stands off to the side, arms crossed. He looks so clean, not dirty from the mines for once, and undeniably handsome, as he always has been. Our eyes meet across the courtyard and I want so badly to just grab him and leave everything else behind. Our chances have run out, though, and that’s my fault. Now there’s no chance of running away without certain death.

            My left pinky finger twitches rapidly and I hold my hands together in an attempt to relax. It only slightly works. My sister and mother tell Caesar some more charming lies about Peeta and me, about how happy we all are and how exciting this news is, and then the cameras move to Gale. Though none of them face me, I feel as though somewhere, somehow, Snow can see me. He might as well be standing right behind me, because a chill runs down my spine. His eyes are always going to be trained on me, until the day one of us dies. I have the sickening feeling it will be me.

            For this invisible, omnipresent Snow, I keep an adoring smile on my face and stand close to Peeta. My hands are clammy and I strain to hear what Gale is saying about me.

            “And here we have Gale Hawthorne, Katniss’ famous cousin. You’ve grown since we last met!” Caesar feels Gale’s bicep and my family giggles. Gale’s cheeks turn a subtle shade of pink and he shakes his head.

            “It’s all the work in the mines I’ve been doing. Gotta keep Panem on its own two feet.” He’s visibly uncomfortable but doing well, considering he hasn’t been trained like I have.

            “What a hero! So exhilarating to see the young people of District Twelve contributing to their country. Wouldn’t you all agree?” Caesar says into the camera.

            He returns to Gale, whose arms are crossed. His shirt is undone a couple of buttons and he looks every bit the roguish, handsome young man he is. His rebellious nature is fighting to show itself, but he restrains himself for my sake. For all our sakes.

            “So how do you feel about your cousin Katniss’ pregnancy? Do you think she’ll be a good mother?”

            I hold my breath and do not exhale until Gale finishes speaking.

            “Of course she will. I’ve known her for as long as I can remember. Katniss is every bit as wonderful as you think she is.” He sees me in the courtyard and smiles just the slightest bit. “She’s always been a provider, we have that in common. Katniss is warm, gentle, and caring, if you get to know her. You saw it when she volunteered for Prim. I always knew she would be the best mother, and I’m very happy for her and Peeta.”

            Tears spring to my eyes but I refuse to let anyone notice. I wipe them away and the rest of Caesar and Gale’s conversation is fuzzy. Imagining myself in Gale’s shoes before had been painful enough, with the idea of him falling in love with a strange girl and having to marry her, but this was on an entirely new level. I can see it in his gray eyes, which are sad and angry and tender all at the same time. It’s enough to make me want to give up and accept whatever punishment Snow has in store for me, just to save Gale the pain of seeing us torn apart like this.

* * *

 

            Gale holds me from behind in bed that night, his big hand wandering over my bare tummy. He kisses my shoulder and I turn my head to the side to look at him. “Did you mean all of that? What you told Caesar?”

            “Hmm?”

            “About me being gentle, all of that. About me being a good mother.”

            He sighs and caresses the spot of skin beneath my navel where I’m ticklish. “Of course I did. What, did you think I was just being nice?”

            I nuzzle my cheek against his and his stubble brushes against my cheek. “Sort of.”

            “Well, I meant it. You are more than the girl on fire, you know. You’re more than what they’ve made you to be. And that’s the Katniss I know, the one I love. The one who did all of this for her family.”

            He kisses my cheek and I lean back so our lips can meet.

            “But I want the girl on fire, too.”

            He’s right; so do I. I need to start fighting back. Fight alongside him, where I belong.


	6. Goodbyes

            As summer draws nearer, the heat takes its toll. My temper flares along with the heat and if I had been unpredictable before, it’s even worse now. Now I snap at the people who least deserve it, even Prim, but instead of being upset about it she seems to understand. Even without being pregnant, the pressure would make me a monster anyway. Between wedding preparations, pregnancy issues, and the stresses of living a double life, I don’t know how I’m still sane.

            Sometimes the pressure is too much and it all comes out.

            This usually happens on nights when Gale isn’t with me, whether he’s in the mines or with his family. Left alone in a bed too big for one person, I only have my mind for company. My thoughts race to the Capitol, to being groomed until my skin is raw. When I am back in the Capitol for the next Games, I will have to go through all of that mess once more - one last time. Every hair that isn’t on my head will be plucked, every nail shaped to perfection, every inch of skin made silky smooth, and I’ll hate every second of it. Peeta and I will be asked time and time again about our wedding, our baby, and our desire to escape this together again. But Snow has made it so that isn’t possible. By his design, one person will make it out alive, and the odds are not in the favor of two teenagers in a group of seasoned killers.

            Sometimes my mind goes to even darker places. I think of all the risks it will take to even make it to the final round of tributes, how many horrors I’ll have to survive. Twenty-two other victors chasing Peeta and I? I can’t imagine myself making it that far, let alone both of us. Make that three of us, with the baby. Gale’s baby. How will that slow me down? Am I going to be sick every few hours? Am I going to need something more than simple pain medicine? There are no healers in the arena, and once they drop us inside, no one will care that I’m in delicate condition. I’m as good as dead.

            As much as I’ve been afraid of being a mother, especially of going down my own mother’s path, I feel a strange sense of acceptance. It’s the last thing I ever expected, to become pregnant, but here I am. My belly has a swell to it now and I often find myself running my hands over it. Inside of me is a tiny human being who depends entirely on what I do. Sometimes I feel like I won’t be able to do it, any of it, but Gale reminds me of my strength.

            “You survived something that not many people do. I know you can do this. You’re stronger than you know, remember?” Gale murmurs as he presses his forehead against mine one night. “I’m here. I’m not leaving.” He kisses me softly and I shiver when he touches my stomach.

            I know he isn’t leaving me. But soon I’ll have to leave him, and I don’t know if I’ll ever come back.

* * *

 

            My dreams have become more fiery. Flames are everywhere, burning trees and flowers. Burning my house – not the one in Victors’ Village, but my childhood home. The faded wallpaper peels off the walls and turns into ash as I walk through, never able to find the front door. I run through the bedroom Prim and I once shared, my mother’s bedroom, and the small room we used for baths. The kitchen is a mess and when I try to open the window to escape, blood pours down the glass. All I want to do is get out, but every attempt fails. My feet lead me to my old bed and I lie down as the flames lick the mattress. Wood crackles and smoke filters through the door, but I am breathing just fine. My eyes lock on to the ceiling and I am resolved to meet my fate, a fitting one for the girl on fire.

            That’s when I hear the voice. The voice of a little girl.

            She isn’t screaming like anyone else would be in a fire; instead she’s giggling. I feel her crawl into bed beside me and I sit up. She’s sitting next to me and I finally see her face. Her cheeks are full and rosy, with a smattering of barely visible freckles. She has soft, dark brown hair and wide gray eyes. She looks like a tiny version of myself. This realization takes my breath away and as badly as I want to touch her, my hand can’t find the strength.

            “Come here,” I whisper. It feels like the only thing I can do as the fire crawls up the bedding towards my skin.

            “Wake up,” she says. The fire is reflected in her eyes. “It’s time to get up. Wake up.”

            I furrow my brow. The fire spreads over my clothes but I don’t feel a thing. “What? What are you – “

            “Today is the day. Ladies and gentlemen…”

            “What?”

            “Goodbye. Goodbye, Katniss. Goodbye.”

            I stare in bewilderment as the little girl disappears and I am transported back to my bed in Victors’ Village.

            “Katniss?” The voice is familiar and I open my eyes to see Prim. “Are you okay?”

            I rub my eyes and nod, tossing the covers off. There are little nail marks in my palms from where I made fists in my sleep. “I’m fine. Just had a weird dream.” I sit up and toss my legs over the side of the bed, and Prim starts to gently push my hair out of my face. “What time is it?”

            “It’s seven-thirty.”

            I frown when I see she’s already dressed and her hair is done. “Why are you dressed? What’s going on?” I mumble as I stand up and shuffle over to the closet.

            Prim looks at me like I must be pulling some kind of joke. “Katniss. It’s Reaping Day.”

            My heart stops for a moment as I stand before the closet doors. This could be the very last day I ever see my family. My sister… “Prim,” I whisper, rubbing my thumb against the closet door. I feel her arms around my waist and I close my eyes, inhaling sharply. “Prim, I don’t – I can’t –“

            “You’ll make it. I know you will, Katniss.” Prim kisses the back of my shoulder and squeezes me a little harder. All I want to do is bang my fists against the closet and scream, but Prim’s presence comforts me, as always. “You did it before. You’re stronger this time.”

            I swallow back the tears in my throat. “It doesn’t feel that way.”

            She moves so she’s facing me, and in those eyes I see a soul even older than mine. That’s what Greasy Sae always says about Prim, that she has an old soul. She looks like she’s lived a hundred lifetimes and she knows everything there is to know about the world. I want that for her; I want her to live forever. I fought for her once, and I’ll do it again. I touch her long hair, half of it in a beautiful braid.

            “I can’t make any promises,” I say quietly.

            “I know. Just try, okay?” Prim hugs me and I hold her tightly.

            “Okay.”

* * *

 

            I meet Gale in the meadow, where we have spent the morning of the Reaping together for the past five years. All I can think of is that this could be the last time. I rest my face against his shoulder, breathing him in and stroking his cheek. The stubble on his face and jawline gives way to the soft, fine hair on his chest, where his shirt remains half-unbuttoned. Mine is still unbuttoned as well, and my chest is still alive with the sensation of his fingers on my skin, even after our all-too-brief encounter has ended. Neither of us cries, but I feel pretty damn close.

            “We should have gone when you said,” he says, his voice almost inaudible.

            Maybe we should have, and we wouldn’t be here like this. Maybe we would have been shot on sight, or froze to death, or starved. Maybe a lot of things could have happened, had we stayed or had we left. But I don’t want our last memory to be an argument, so I stay quiet. I tilt his chin so he faces me and press a tender, gentle kiss to his lips. They are the softest, warmest part of him, and I don’t want to lose them. We kiss for a long time.

            The sun rises farther into the sky and we both know it’s time to leave.

            “I love you,” I whisper.

            He smiles and there’s a slight twinkle in his eyes. “I know.”

* * *

 

            I put on the jumpsuit laid out for me and manage to buckle my belt over my small belly. My braid is messy but it will have to do. I can’t be late to my own death sentence. When I step outside, Haymitch and Peeta are in the courtyard, surrounded by a handful of peacekeepers. I realize I will not be walking with Prim to the Reaping.

            “I’ll see you when we say goodbye,” I say as I hug Prim. She nods and I hug my mother, who has become much better at holding back her tears.

            “Good luck,” my mother whispers. It seems strange considering there will only be one scrap of paper in the girls’ bowl this year, but I know she means to wish me luck in the arena, since that’s where I’m going.

            We are silently led to the Hall of Justice, almost marching along with our armored escorts. Haymitch looks as clean as he can be, and Peeta is far from the nervous mess he was a year ago. We are resigned, but inside we are screaming. No children are in line getting their fingers pricked; instead, the square is silent and all eyes are on us. I feel like I might burst as I walk onto the stage. In the front row stands my family, including a very handsome Gale. He has his arm around Prim’s shoulders, and on his other side stand his mother and younger siblings. Hazelle, Vick, Rory, tiny Posy…I might never see them again.

            Effie, magnificent in an outfit made of monarch butterflies, says her usual spiel. She’s as peppy as can be, but nowhere near as excited as last year. She never expected to be doing this – none of us did. I hear random sentences from her as I tune in and out, my eyes on Gale and Prim. I can’t look them in the eyes, though, because I know I’ll cry.

            “Welcome, welcome…as we celebrate the seventy-fifth anniversary and third Quarter Quell of the Hunger Games.”

            Last year, Gale and I were in the crowd, bored and joking with one another. It was hotter, drier, brighter that summer. As the droll video explaining the history of the Games played on, Gale and I would mouth its dialogue to one another.

            _War. Terrible war._

We were children then.

            “And as always, ladies first.”

            Effie steps over to my side of the stage. I avoid her, gazing out into the crowd. The sound of her hand digging into the bowl for that tiny piece of paper with my name on it is the loudest sound I have ever heard. My stomach drops even though I know what is coming.

            I don’t know what feels worse – hearing my sister’s name called a year ago, or hearing the next sentence out of Effie’s mouth.

            “The female tribute from District Twelve…Katniss Everdeen.”

            Tears roll down my cheeks but I stay quiet. It’s all I can do to look at Effie, who seems equally upset, and walk to the center of the stage.

            “And now for the men.” Effie heads to the bowl by Haymitch and Peeta. I don’t want either of their names drawn, because whoever is chosen to come with me will end up dying to protect me. It seems so wrong to send Haymitch back into the arena, considering all the harm it’s caused him over the last twenty-five years, but I don’t want Peeta to be re-traumatized either. I know for a fact that Peeta will die to defend me, and then I will have no one on my side.

            “The male tribute from District Twelve…” Effie opens the paper and when she gives a defeated sigh, I know whose name it is. “Haymitch Abernathy.”

            Before she even gets out the last syllable, Peeta volunteers. It’s no use trying to convince him not to, as Haymitch discovers. So the boy with the bread steps up beside me, and I am left with the gut-wrenching feeling that I am responsible for all of this. I am leading an innocent boy to his death because he wants to protect me.

            Effie continues gushing about us and my lip quivers. I am on the edge of full-blown sobbing, and all that’s keeping me from doing so is the realization that I at least get to say my last goodbyes. A sudden movement from my family in the front row shifts my attention, and I see their left hands in the air, three fingers in the salute of our district. Thousands of hands join them. I raise mine in return and keep my eyes on Gale and Prim. Now we say goodbye. I plan to hold back nothing, to embrace and kiss them as much as I can. I need their warmth. They start to move towards the building but are stopped by peacekeepers.

            I am being pulled away by Romulus Thread.

            “Katniss!” Prim’s small voice reaches my ears and I shake my head. This is not happening.

            “I get to say goodbye!” I blurt, pulling against Thread’s iron grip. I’ll jump off the stage if I have to.

            “Katniss!” Prim screams this time, and Gale is the only thing between her and the peacekeepers. He blocks their shoving and holds Prim before she can escape and get herself killed.

            “No, I get to say goodbye!” Everything is a blur, finished in a matter of seconds, but it feels like someone has twisted a knife in my back. A final goodbye is the one compensation we get for being tributes, but Snow has found a way to get at my very core and rip it in half. We always get a goodbye.

            This time, we don’t. I see Prim’s tiny body against Gale’s big one, both of them shocked. Prim stops struggling and my mother pets her hair while Gale holds her.

            “Goodbye!” I choke out, and the doors slam in my face.

            Just like that, they’re gone.


End file.
